


Who Needs A Pedigree?

by problematicorca



Category: Ginga | Silver Fang, One Piece
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Female Monkey D. Luffy, Female Sabo, Multi, Polyamory, THEY'RE DOGS!!!, Will add tags as I continue, dog au, ginga au, if you've seen the ginga series then you know, it's dogs fighting a bear so there's gonna be gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 14:46:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17205374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/problematicorca/pseuds/problematicorca
Summary: There is a mountain pass and a forest below that acts as a paradise for wild dogs. Adjacent to the vast woodland lies a country town, growing larger and better each year. The residents, at first, had learned to live in harmony with the droves of wild dogs that inhabited the wilderness nearby, for they knew what terrors also lurked in the darkness.





	Who Needs A Pedigree?

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small introduction to get the ball rolling. I will focus the next three chapters on Ace, Sabo, and Luffy specifically- to introduce their characters as well as building the plot. If you enjoyed, please let me know via kudos or comments, or both! Thank you! ❤

There is a mountain pass and a forest below that acts as a paradise for wild dogs. Adjacent to the vast woodland lies a country town, growing larger and better each year. The residents, at first, had learned to live in harmony with the droves of wild dogs that inhabited the wilderness nearby, for they knew what terrors also lurked in the darkness. 

The winters were harsh, just as unforgiving as nature always intended. With the winds whipping the trees and very nearly bending the thick trunks to its will, snow blanketed the ground and coated the sides of the village houses. Nights like this were dark and impossible to navigate, leaving most of the residents to take refuge in their homes. At the start of this small residency, the humans had the odds stacked against them, for up on the mountain side resided a monstrous bear that realized just how easy it was to hunt the villagers. Their houses splintered and gave way beneath his massive paws. The snow often painted red in his wake, bodies half eaten and strewn about like decorations of carnage to celebrate his conquests. When all hope seemed lost, the dogs fought back. It started with a stray German Shepherd named Roger, his coat long and black as night, his legs bearing the only color in a light brown. He rallied the other stray dogs, forming a massive pack of strays, and eventually pets joining for the sake of their masters. They were always stronger in numbers, working together under Roger’s command to take down the vicious bear. He claimed his territory, and turned his teeth on any other threat that should arise after. 

He was well-renowned by the village people as a hero. His second-in-command, a great pyrenees named Rayeligh, was also a force to be reckoned with, and split off with half of the pack to ensure that the dogs were always on duty. Their glowing eyes could be seen just beyond the fires’ glow in the village, ever present and always watching over the settlement. Wolves were chased out of the territory entirely. Bears were kept in place. Mountain lions and bobcats were brought to heel, and the dogs dominated all to ensure not only their survival, but the survival of the village. But with their newfound freedom of expansion and life, came the inevitable fear of the wild dogs that inhabited the mountainside as outsiders began to settle in the village. They brought more sheep and cattle, which the dogs would sometimes turn their teeth on, making relations tense between humans and wild dogs. 

Roger was the focus, being the most iconic and the leader of the dogs. 

More often than not, he could be seen sneaking into the farmland of one of the more influential men in the village. The reason was never because of the sheep, no-- his eyes were locked on the farmer’s dog.

She was a blonde border collie named Rouge, who- once she started running- Roger would swear up and down she could fly off her feet. However, she was the prized dog of the farmer, who had the hopes of breeding her to another, famous border collie. “Their puppies would be champions!” He would claim, excitedly spreading word of his plans throughout the village to hype up anyone who may want a smart, beautiful puppy off of his Rouge. There was no doubt in his mind that whatever puppies she produced would be loved and desired through the whole village. 

So, when she bore the mixed breed pups of a German Shepherd, he was outraged. 

The tides quickly began to turn on Roger after, and there was a buzz among the villagers that they should take action against the wild dogs. Was there any real need for them anymore, with the number of humans who now inhabited the village? Surely, if there was ever a threat like a monstrous bear, they could stand their ground. They had their guns, more advanced, and more numbers among them. After much deliberation, and weeks of debate, the decision was made.

Hunting parties were formed and spread out through the wilderness and the mountainside in search of the notorious German Shepherd. An end to him would mean an end to the organized pack of wild dogs that was a hair's breadth away from overtaking them, as some of the villagers would claim. Long days followed, tedious days where men toiled through the trees and the mountain, hunting for a dog of all things. Roger was elusive and smart, for he knew the humans better than they knew themselves. 

So, they adapted their plans and began to shoot down  _ any _ dog they found along their hunt.

Countless lives were lost in the slaughter, and after weeks of this- Roger finally gave himself up to the hunters. 

They carried his body back and strung him up by his hind legs form the limb of a tree, as a trophy and a warning for all other dogs. 

* * *

Rouge remembered that night well.   
After the death of her dearly beloved, the farmer set his sights on her pups. He had locked her away in the back of the barn, the smell of hay clouding her senses as she lay there with five squirming puppies beside her. Up until this point, a kind heart and a gentle hand had been their saving grace. The farmer loved his dear Rouge, and he still believed that any puppies she produced could surely be loved as well. However, he could no longer turn a blind eye to Roger’s death, and the cries of ending any possible bloodlines he may have. 

There was an electric charge in the air that night. 

Rouge sat up, her floppy ears perking forward as she listened to the rustling around her. She knew her farmer’s routine well, and this was out of the ordinary. Something had felt  _ different _ about him earlier, less kind and more reserved. He had  _ never _ locked her up before, always giving her free reign of the grounds. It was her job, as a sheepdog, to watch the flocks and assist him with the work. If that were not enough to convince her, the faint scent of  _ gasoline _ finally reached her nose. 

She made up her mind, and rose to her feet. 

Her puppies were too young to walk on their own yet, only crawling about in fluffy lumps of love. She would have to carry them, but she could only carry one at a time. “Don’t fret, my loves,” she assured in that smooth, loving voice that only mothers can have. “We’re going on an adventure, to live where your Father lived.” It was their only hope for survival, after all. So, she grabbed a round puppy, mostly black with a little white on his snout and legs, by his scruff and began to dig her way out from under the barn. 

It was a rough squeeze, but she managed and she trotted down the path she knew so well-- leading out to the fields. Through the wooden fences and the tall grass, she disappeared among the sheep that knew her so well, using their large, wooly bodies as cover before she bounded into the woodland just beyond the gate. There, she stopped at a large, mostly dead tree and dug away at the trunk to hide her pup. “Wait here,” she told him, as if he could somehow escape on his own. His brown eyes stared back in hopeful anticipation before he saw his mother turn away and dart across the field again.

Hope filled her as she squeezed through the sheep, until she reached the edge of the field. Smoke assaulted her nose first, but she brushed it off as nothing more than the bonfires that children or some of the other humans would make at their nightly gatherings. When she reached the fence and could clearly see the barn though, her heart dropped and her ears pinned back with terror. The end of the barn was ablaze, in the very room she had been in moments prior. 

Rouge was too smart to believe it to be an accident, and too heartbroken to return. She could see her farmer a little further away, watching to ensure that she did not escape with her pups in tow. He hated Roger, more than he loved her. 

And she had only managed to save one of her children. 

Turning tail, not wanting to orphan her last remaining child, she ran as fast as her paws would carry her and leapt the fence again. Little Ace was right where she had left him, and she grabbed his scruff in a hurry before rushing into the thick of the woodland, never once daring to look back. Her life at the farm was over, and all she could do was preserve the gift that her lover had left her with, ensure that he survived in a world that seemed to want them both dead. 

She would not stop until her paws gave out beneath her, and she collapsed in the dirt and the leaves of the forest floor, her chest heaving. Ace squeaked in pain as she fell on him too, and she released her grip on him so he may crawl closer and away from her mouth, burrowing in the thick fur of her neck. He was all she had left, and the ache in her heart was all the worse with her heavy panting for breath. 

All her life, she had known the kindness of humans. Now, she was all too aware of the cruelty of man. 

 


End file.
